Not all girls like supernatural studs, y'know
by PsychoticSushi
Summary: bad title,as usual.POST-Legion.What's life without a few apocolypses here and there?And hey,if she gets help from a British -albeit annoying and smug- Former Angel,Alyce Parrish MIGHT not lose the fight. ...Maybe. ...Oh,let's face it,they're screwed.
1. All Good Guys are gay, taken, or CRAZY

**I hope this first chapter isnt too crappy; i was going with one Legion idea, but then switched to another, so please forgive if it seems to take too long on stuff that isnt really important!**

**Just give it a shot!**

**....Come on....you know you want to...!!**

**haha.**

**DISCLAIMER: If you haven't seen the movie, go see it. You shall see that i am not behind that masterpiece.**

* * *

Why did it always rain on this day? It seemed that ever since her seventeenth birthday, four years ago, it always rained on her birthday. And it didn't help that she had been stuck in this hellhole all morning.

Now it was afternoon rush, more than five customers would enter per hour, and she'd have more work to do on the worst day of the year.

"Hi, my name's Alyce, and I'll be taking care of you today. What can I start you off with?" Alyce asked with an enthusiasm only _she_ could pull of as real.

The family glanced up at her. She quickly assessed how this table was going to be.

Mother and father about middle-aged. Rich, obviously, judging by the mom's giant diamond earrings and tennis bracelet. And by her expensive makeup and how perfectly her blonde hair was swooped up in the classic updo.

The dad quite honestly looked about to kill someone. Her guess was the mud all over the lower part of his Armani suit, and his slightly-askew gelled brown hair.

The kids were your average bored high-schoolers (she had been one three years ago); blonde, blue-eyed daughters, brunette, green-eyed son.

"Scotch, on the rocks," was the father's immediate answer. "Make it a double."

She wrote it down on her imaginary notepad, saving her crappy, _actual_ notepad for the expensive meal they would undoubtedly demand from such a simple diner.

"A margarita would be nice," his wife commented thoughtfully before nodding. "Yes, a margarita with no salt."

_No salt on a margarita?? Rich people are crazy._

"Alright, I'll just be needin' to see your ID." He and his wife exchanged a chuckle of gratitude as they flashed theirs. Yep. She'd be getting a tip just for that.

"Coke please," Twin One recited politely. "Dr. Pepper, with a lime, just because," the other one stated dully.

"How about a Bud Light?" The son suggested suavely. Alyce chuckled. "You're funny. Let's see your ID, too, kid."

"....Okay, fine, Coke," he muttered grudgingly, and his dad smirked. "Good choice."

"I'll be right back with your drinks," Alyce replied cheerily as she turned on her heel and waltzed towards the kitchen.

As soon as she went through the swinging door, she imitated shooting herself with a shotgun at Scott, the second-in-command, and Jacque, the Jamaican cook.

"Why so down? It's St. Patty's tomorrow," one of the new dishboys asked with curiosity. Scott shook his head with a laugh. "God, you must be really new."

"...Ohhh. Not Irish?" Alyce gave him a weird look. "Where do you think the red hair's from?" she asked before reciting the drink orders for Scott.

"And no _special ingredients _with their drinks, their loooooaaaadddded."

"Here you are. Do you need more time, or are you ready to place an order?"

The father glanced outside the frumpiest diner in America. Or on Earth, for that matter. Even the brand-spanking-new colonies on the moon had nicer dumps than this.

"Well, that depends. How long does it take for these idots to fix a car around here?"

Alyce glanced outside. "...I'd suggest waiting. If you place an order now, they'll be done right after I place it with the kitchen. Trust me, it happens every time."

The mother nodded, taking a large swig of her drink. "Waiting sounds good, then."

* * *

Just as she left the table and was about to sit down, another customer walked in, and of _course_ she was the only one _working _in this dump, so guess who had to place his order?

Yeah.

"Hi. What can I get you?"

The stranger barely gave her a second glance. "Surprise me." His voice was pure moodiness.

Alyce, already in a crappy mood, shot back an answer without thinking it through.

"How about a steaming glass of Jerk Face, with an extra splash of Take-Your-Smart-Ass-Ness-Somewhere-Else?" She suggested with mock cheerfulness.

He finally turned his head to look at her. Damn. The view wasn't half bad. "Well, now you're qualified as a fellow Smart-Ass. You wouldn't kick out your own kind, now, would you?" Sigh. He had an accent, too.

"...Well, I guess not," Alyce huffed. He chuckled. "I think I'll take some beer. Any beer." "Fine." "Fine." "Fine," she said quickly before striding into the kitchen. She had always been bad about having to have the last word. Even with complete strangers.

* * *

She set down the beer with extra noise. "Hungry?"

He took his eyes-those amazingly clear blue eyes, might she add-from the screen to study her quickly. "You're in a noticeably scarier mood."

"Anything else I can get you?" She asked, as if he hadn't even spoken.

"Actually, there is. Do you know an...Alyce? With a Y instead of an I? Alyce Parrish, to be exact."

Alyce narrowed her eyes. "Is this some kind of joke? How do you know my name, I left my name tag at home today, since I was running late and all," she asked quickly. Okay, some stranger knew her name; why _wouldn't_ she be rambling??

He looked genuinely surprised. "...Wait. You're telling me YOU'RE Alyce?" "No, I lied for no particular reason. Because I love having random people know me by name," she snapped.

"Now answer my question, sir."

He glanced around as if suddenly realizing they were surrounded by poisonous snakes and spiders. "Come with me. It's not safe here," he said while grabbing her small wrist.

Alyce firmly planted her feet to the ground. "Oh, _hell_ no! I've watched CSI and Bones, I know how this goes! It's always the dumb waitress or the jogger!!"

He sighed and gently tugged her along. "Now's not the time! I know it's strange, but you have to just have faith." She couldn't help it; she laughed. "Faith? Really? You're funny."

Before more could be said, a customer walked through the door, causing the bell to ring. This particular customer had shifty eyes, and his eyes stayed on her way too long. As if seeing something she couldn't, the other strange guy yanked her out the door.

She preceded to slap him. "What the hell is going on?! Are you my stalker who keeps calling and hanging up after breathing really hard for a while?!" She asked, brown eyes flashing angrily.

Before he could even explain, she was walking towards her car at an extremely fast rate.

Why did everyone have to screw with her on today of all days?

* * *

Five hours later, Alyce grinned proudly to herself after getting to the cemetery and not seeing a single soul around but her.

She took a sip of her frozen Coke and placed the fresh flowers on her best friend's grave. "Marigolds, daisies, and sunflowers; rather odd combo, but your faves nonetheless," Alyce told the tombstone matter-of-factly.

"I'm off to Florida in about an hour. I think I deserve at least one vacation before I kill myself out of boredom," she told her, chuckling to herself.

Ever since Libby died in the accident, she had always felt a hole in her heart from where she had been.

"She was a very wonderful young woman," a British voice she had comitted to memory for future reference stated behind her.

Alyce turned around. "Are you following me? Wait, stupid question..how the hell did _you _know _Libby_?"

"Oh, I know her quite well."

Alyce narrowed her eyes. "Then how come she never mentioned you. Huh?"

The stranger flashed a crooked smile, as if it were extremely funny. "Because she hasn't had a chance to. For five years, I've known her."

Alyce clenched her fists. "You jerk, that's impossible, she died five years ago. On this very day. Only it was a Saturday."

"I know. I was there when she came."

"She never made it, she was killed on the way. Now you're just confusing me, so just..leave me alone!!" Alyce cried out impatiently before quickly heading for the cemetery gates.

"Libby made it to heaven."

Alyce stopped dead in her tracks before slowly turning back around and eyeing him suspiciously.

"...Are you some kind of...Jesus freak who thinks they talk to God?"

He laughed. "No, no. I'm quite sane. And I am not a freak. ...Much. You see, I was an angel once."

"Oh jeez. Screw you, I'm going home!"

Alyce opened the fence and stormed through, jumping as the gate slammed behind her, and stomped to her car. Before she could even search in her bag for her keys, the "Angel" was sitting on the hood of her car.

He smirked and dangled the keys in her face. "Looking for these?"

* * *

Alyce opened and closed her mouth like a fish. "H-how did you...that's not...ARRGH!!"

She reached to snatch them out of his hand, but he jerked them away at the very last moment.

Alyce tried again. And again. And then one more time. He simply kept waving them away, and finally, he just threw them over the cemetery fence.

"You won't be needing those anyway."

She gave him a glare of pure hatred. "You asshole. Now go _get _them!!"

He grinned. "Why? All I have to do is..." He snapped his fingers, and the car started. Just freaking roared to life out of nowhere.

Alyce gaped in amazement, and slowly snapped her fingers, hoping she'd have a similar effect on it.

No luck. She sighed. "Great. My car's possessed. Thanks so much."

The guy just smirked and opened the passenger door for her. "I know I locked my doors, I just know I did," she muttered.

He stood there patiently, waiting like he had nowhere to be. Which he didn't, Alyce was sure.

She glanced at her dashboard and could just barely make out the time. She only had a half-hour to get to the other side of town to board her plane.

Alyce sighed and stormed up to him. "If you so much as fog up my windows with your stupid Fallen Angel breathing, I'll kick your winged ass."

And with that, she slid into the passenger seat, hoping he wasn't a serial killer.

* * *

**Sooo what'd you think? It'd be awesome if you told me through a review or pm. **

**you can even flame me.**

**I love it when people flame writers, it always makes me laugh for some reason.**

**Do any of you fellow fic-writers feel like that sometimes??**

**ehhh maybe it's just me.**

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**Oh well.**

**REVIEW!**


	2. Even ANGELS are annoying perverts?

**Loved all the reviewing going on:)**

**Keep it up!**

**I've got another one for your viewing conevenience, so enjoy!**

* * *

For the first ten minutes, he drove around aimlessly. Alyce just sat there, all huffy, feet propped up on the dashboard and legs curled up, almost touching her chest.

Finally, the guy seemed to realize she probably wanted to be somewhere.

"....So...where are we going?"

"Aren't you angels supposed to know the answers to those questions?" Alyce snapped moodily, still mourning for her lost keys.

He just continued driving patiently. It was really starting to piss her off.

"The airport would be nice," she finally said. He smirked. "Not a good idea. Pick somewhere else."

"EXCUSE ME???"

He jumped a little. "...Well, it's not safe. For right now."

She sighed. "How about you drive me to Florida yourself, then?"

"Ha. You're a funny one."

"...How about at work?"

"Not a chance."

She finally snapped and flicked the side of his head with much more force than necessary. He swerved, then slammed on the brakes.

"What the _fu_-"

Alyce interrupted him by poking a menacing finger in his chest. "Now, look here, Fly-Boy. I don't even _know _you. So there is no way in _hell _that you're telling me what to do when I have no explanation whatsoever!! I don't even know your freaking _name_!! So...step off!"

The angel guy blinked, then sighed.

"My name...is Michael. And, if you take a glance towards my back, you will observe I can't fly any more than _you _can. I was an angel _once_. One of God's sons, and his general, if you will. That's another story entirely, one I'm not yet willing to share. All you need to know is that I am no longer a full-fledged angel, I still have a few handy powers, and my main focus right now is to protect you. So, I'll ask again...where are we going?"

Alyce sighed. "Take a right up here."

**TWO HOURS LATER...**

"Unbelievable as it is, I sort of believe you," she informed this Michael dude. He was currently inspecting her coffee maker with extreme interest.

She tried not to laugh as he pressed the ON button, and jumped as it started whirring.

"...It's a coffee maker."

"What does it...do?" He asked, eyeing it as if it was a potential hazard.

"...It makes prune juice," she said matter-of-factly.

"Hmm. I wonder why they call it a coffee maker..."

"Faulty labeling, I'm sure."

"Yes, you're probably right," he said slowly, not taking his eyes off the Evil Machine.

Alyce put her hands on her hips. "Feel free to leave at any time."

He turned to look at her. "Oh, I'm staying."

"Excuse you?"

"I said, I'm staying. You should really clean your ears out."

She glared at him. He glared at her. After a good three minutes of this, she finally sighed. "Whatever. But you're sleeping on the floor."

"What about your couch?"

"I might need that. You get the floor."

He shrugged. She pointed to a room down the hall. "I think my brother's clothes are still in there. Help yourself."

"Where's your brother?"

Alyce pointed to a picture near her tv. "Japan. With his wife and little girl. I'm gonna go change, so stay out of my room," she informed him before stomping off.

Stupid Fired Angels in her apartment.

********************

LESS THAN A MINUTE LATER...

"What the hell!!! What part of STAY OUT didn't compute?!" Alyce shouted, looking ready to kill.

There she was, in her bra and underwear, and he had just walked right in looking for something.

He smirked. "Oh. Sorry."

He just stood there, and she threw a random bag at him. "Get the hell OUT!!"

A few minutes later, after her homicidal mood subsided, she sat down with her Frosted Flakes to watch some tv. Michael was nowhere to be seen.

There was nothing else on but the news, which she utterly despised, but she watched it intently anyway.

"..So, you like monkeys?" Michael asked innocently, making her Frosted Flakes go flying.

Alyce gritted her teeth. "Since you're not an angel anymore, that means I can _murder _you, right?"

"You won't get into heaven."

"I think in this case the Big Man would rule in my _favor_," she seethed, smacking him upside the head for emphasis.

"Ow!"

"Maybe you shouldn't walk in on people anymore, you pervert!!"

"Fine! ..But, seriously, what's with the monkey underwear?" He asked with honest curiosity.

Were they REALLY talking about this?!

"They...were on SALE," she muttered, taking a bite of the Frosted Flakes still in the bowl.

She pretended she was crunching on angels. She could practically hear the annoying bastards screaming.

Maybe she _was _insane..

"Can I ask you something, Michael?"

"What?"

"How come you know about stuff like beer and lingerie and the way people talk nowadays, but you know absolutely nothing about things like coffee makers??"

He rolled his eyes as if this were an amateur question. "Because I pay more attention to people. How they act, how they speak, how they live. And many of them like beer. And they change clothes at least three times a day. As for the things I don't know....well, I don't even like prune juice," he explained matter-of-factly.

Alyce just shrugged and ate some more Frosted Flakes.

"Oh, and Michael?"

"Yes, Alyce?"

"You're cleaning up those Frosted Flakes."

"Fine, but just enough so I can sleep on the floor without feeling crumbs under me."

"NO, all of it."

"But it's carpet!!"

"ALL OF IT!!!"

* * *

**Haha. I love how Alyce thinks having Michael take up residence in her apartment is an INconvenience...**

**xD**

**Well...REVIEW!**


	3. SlapChops, Old Friends, and Heaviness

**Wow, so many reviews and alerts and faves with only two chapps? **

**That's awesomely crazy!**

**I must warn you, this chapp's funny, but it gets kinda serious, too.**

**You have been warned, so Enjoy!**

* * *

The next morning, Alyce was having a truly psychadelic dream when her alarm clock abruptly buzzed.

She promptly threw it against her wall, burying her face even further into the pillow and breathing in deeply.

After a few moments, she rolled over.

Maybe it had all been a dream.

She had just been so emotional that she dreamt the whole thing up.

Yeah! Maybe-

"AHHHHHH!!!!!" Alyce screamed as she noticed Michael sitting cross-legged at the end of her bed.

"What the _hell_ is your problem, you freak?!" Alyce shouted, sitting up, loose hair falling out of her ponytail.

Michael shook his heads. "Honestly, you redheads. Such tempers. Overreact to everything."

"Yes, because no _other _sane person would flip out if some random dude was sitting on the edge of their bed," Alyce shot back, folding her arms across her middle.

He grinned, holding out his arms. "Either way, at least you know I'm still here!"

"Oh, good. I don't know _how_ I could've gone on without you," Alyce muttered moodily to herself.

"I _knew_ you'd warm up to me."

"Dream on, Fly-Boy."

He smirked and edged closer, until she was backed up against the wall. His face was about three inches from hers, and she felt her own face warm up.

He smirked, satisfied. "Yep. You've warmed up to me at least a little," he commented, standing up.

"I'm hungry."

"That's what arms and legs are for," she snapped, pissed he had managed to make her turn red.

Former Angels were such smug bastards.

* * *

After slipping on some jeans with her brother's old plaid shirt, Alyce went into her kitchen, looking for some food.

She poured herself some Frosted Flakes, which was pretty much the only thing to eat around here, and was about to eat a heaping spoonful when she noticed some hair in it.

_...Wait...not hair...CARPET!!!_

"MICHAEL?!!"

He jumped about a foot off her couch, laughing nervously as he took in her angry expression and noticed the spoon of cereal dangling five inches away from her mouth.

"Oh. That."

"Did you clean it up...and put it _back_ in the box?!"

"...Well, yes, but I didn't see anything _wrong_ with it!" He replied defensively.

"COMMON SENSE, MAYBE?!"

There was pounding on the wall, the signal from her neighbor telling her to shut up again.

Alyce sighed, temple throbbing. She finally slipped on some flip-flops and grabbed her bag. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"The store. I'm hungry as hell, and I don't wanna buy McDonald's all week," she grumbled.

He followed her happily. "I've always wanted to see a grocery store up close!"

"Well, today's your lucky day. Congratu-_freaking_-lations," Alyce muttered, rolling up the sleeves of her shirt angrily.

* * *

"Okay, let's see, where's the stupid sauce..." Alyce wondered thoughtfully after putting back yet another item Michael had tried to sneak into the cart.

Michael saw this time and let out a sigh. "Honestly, Alyce, you're acting like my mum!"

"Well, maybe you shouldn't act like a kid!" She shot back in annoyance.

Alyce then had a thought. "Wait, you have a mom? How is that possible?"

Michael shrugged, trying to sneak a Slap-Chop into the cart. "God is still a man. Men have needs."

Alyce raised an eyebrow, and he misread it for confusion. "By _needs_, I mean _sex_."

"Yes, I'm _aware_, thank you!" She hissed as a passing mom gave them a dirty look and pushed her child a little further.

Alyce smiled apologetically, then hit him in the arm.

"Ow!"

Alyce sighed and shook her head. "Honestly, Michael. You have _issues_."

"You think that's bad, you should see him gun-slinging," a voice said from beside her, making her jump.

* * *

A girl with dirty-blonde hair and a kid in her buggy was standing beside her, a hand on her hip. Michael gave her a half-smile. "It's Audrey."

Alyce was now _beyond _confused. "Humanity picks back up fast, doesn't it?" She stated. Michael chuckled. "Alyce, this is Audrey. A friend of mine's daughter."

Alyce shook her hand. "Hey."

Audrey smirked. "Well. You look almost exactly like she described you, Michael. Speaking of which.." She added as a fellow dirty-blonde (though in her fifties or so) walked up to Audrey and grinned at Michael.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the Gun-Slinging Angel, Michael." Michael laughed, and they exchanged a hug. "You survived this long? Amazing."

"Have some faith, now! Sadly, _he_ didn't," She commented sadly.

Michael nodded. "Yes, I know. Heart attack."

"That's right."

Her gaze flitted to Alyce, and a slow grin spread on her face. "Well. Never thought you'd come to Earth permanently,_ much less _settle down."

Alyce turned slightly red, and Michael laughed somewhat nervously. "Still haven't, Charlie. This is my friend Alyce."

They shook hands. For a fifty-something, Charlie had a firm grip.

"Hey there. I'm Charlie."

"Hi."

Audrey glanced at her phone, and begun to push her cart. "Mom, it's time to go. Cole's waiting for us."

Charlie gave them one last grin. "Good to see you."

"Take care, Charlie."

Once they were gone, Alyce put a hand on her hip. "Gun-Slinger, eh? Do explain, I can't WAIT to hear this."

Michael glanced around. "Fine, but not here. Too many people could overhear."

Alyce raised an eyebrow. He made it sound like a CIA mission or something. Was it really that big??

* * *

"You know how the world almost ended about three decades ago, right?" He asked as she unloaded things from the sacks.

"My mom told me stories," she replied absently.

"Charlie's baby, a boy, saved humanity that night. And I helped her deliver it."

Alyce let out a whistle. "That's heavy. Wait, Audrey's a girl, in case you didn't notice."

"Audrey was born later. Charlie named her after a young girl who died during the fight for mannkind's survival," he explained quietly.

Alyce felt a twinge of sadness at that. "So...why is this so top-secret-hush-hush?"

Michael sighed. "Because of what I'm going to say next. Why I'm here."

Finally! She was wondering what she needed protection from.

"I am no longer an angel, and there's a reason. I was punished. I committed a crime against Him. So he sent me down here as a lesson. The reason I was sent to protect you...is because not everyone in heaven thinks stripping me of my title was punishment enough for the crime," he explained slowly.

"What does that have to do with me?"

"Apparently, we have a connection. Some unknown force has intertwined our fates. I'm not sure how, or why, or when, but sometime soon, your fate will lie in my hands, and mine will lie in yours."

* * *

Alyce glowered at the sack. He had RE-snuck the Slap-Chop, and she never realized it.

"You cost me eight extra bucks!!" She cried out, waving the object in the air before setting it down on the counter with more force than necessary.

Alyce glared angrily at the object, and Michael was silent. "...Did you _not _hear what I just told you??"

"Of course I did,'' she snapped, not lifting her gaze from the Slap-Chop. "Basically, you're telling me my life depends on you and your life depends on me. No pressure," she said with a nervous laugh.

Her head was starting to hurt. Really bad.

If Michael wasn't there during the one moment that counted, she could...die? Yes, she could die.

And if she didn't man up during a certain moment in the near future, he could die. And go to heaven? Which equaled hell for him because of his punishment.

For seemingly no reason. Why her?

She had left her tv on when they had gone to the store, and now she heard tidbits of a story that made her turn dangerously pale.

"Flight D-184 crashed unexpectedly today, a mere five minutes from its destination in Destin, Florida."

Alyce turned towards the tv set, totally ignoring Michael's questions. "Shut up, I can't hear," she muttered distractedly, waving him off.

"The names of the passengers has yet to be released, but there are currently no survivors reported."

Alyce put a hand to her face. "Oh my God. That was supposed to be me. I was supposed to be on that plane!"

The ground seemed to tilt, and the voices of the anchors and Michael seemed warped as she fainted right on the spot.


	4. Wheaties and WallKnocking! And BARNEY!

**I'm so sorry for the wait, guys. And im even sorrier at how short this chapp is! **

**I've just had a bunch of crap, school, and other stories (not necessarily in that order) to tend to, and i got totally sidetracked.**

**Plus, y'know, that damn Writer's Block is constantly going around on FanFiction, and even i catch it. Unfortunately.**

**So, enjoy, and I'll update as soon as I'm able!**

* * *

"Alyce? Alyce. ALYCE!"

She groaned and stretched, and felt her fist connect with something fleshy. "Ow! My nose!" Michael groaned.

She blinked her eyes open. "Oh. Sorry. Would you mind moving back? I don't want you bleeding on me," she muttered groggily to her upside-down view of Michael and his nose.

He leaned back and continued to hold his nose, muttering darkly about overreacting redheads.

Alyce stared up at her apartment ceiling. "Y'know, I've never fainted before. It was kind of cool...But now I'm hungry. Hey Michael, can you fix me something?" She asked innocently.

"NO."

She huffed and slowly sat up before clutching her head as the room spun a little. It finally subsided, and she stood up, staggering at first but eventually walking normally to the kitchen.

"Fine. See if I share my Wheaties with YOU."

"Can you get me some ice?"

"Can you fix me some Wheaties?"

"But then I could've just gotten the ice myself!"

Alyce put a hand on her hip. "But Miiiichael, I just FAINTED! AND I just figured out that I should've died today. I should be on the couch THIS INSTANT drinking some alcohol and eating my damn Wheaties! Now get moving, before I go all PMS on your ass!" She demanded, trudging back to the couch and flopping down on it.

He jumped a little and sighed rather heavily before going to the kitchen. "Very well. But only because I do not wish to receive the blunt force of your PMS."

"Damn straight, you don't," she replied, arm stretched out across her eyes miserably.

She hoped she never fainted again; she felt almost worse than when she drank some water in Mexico to prove nothing was wrong with it and had been DEAD WRONG.

Alyce heard clinking, and decided to add, just in case, "You shouldn't need that Slap-Chop for alcohol OR Wheaties, Michael."

"Dammit," she heard him mutter before tossing something onto a counter. She bit back a smirk and continued to ponder about that plane.

_

* * *

_

_Had Michael known it would crash? No, no way. He was just being cautious because of what he told me BEFORE I heard that._

_And fainted._

_Dude, I fricking FAINTED! I've never fainted before in my life! Not even when I found out Libby had died..._

_..Libby.._

_She died in a plane crash, too. Is THAT why I fainted? I think so. It's just such a creepy coincidence. We were even going to the same place! _

_But I'm pretty sure it wasn't the same airline._

_Hopefully. Then it'd just kinda be like "Well, DUH, no WONDER it crashed!". But that's just mean._

_Oh my God, can you imagine what the families of the passengers must be going through? Oh, wait, I can. They're going through hell._

_...No pun intended._

Her thoughts were interrupted by Michael setting stuff down WAY too loudly, and she jumped, head pounding.

"...Thanks. ...Asshole," she muttered under her breath.

"I heard that," he commented as he went to get his stupid ice. "HOW?"

"I told you. I still have a few handy powers. Angels have incredible hearing."

"Really now?" She muttered miserably, gulping down almost half of her beer.

"Of course. We have to, to be able to hear humans who call to us," he replied, totally oblivious to her misery.

_Great. I'm not gonna get away with CRAP around him!_

"...Marvelous."

_**

* * *

**_

_**HOURS ****LATER...**_

Alyce woke up from a nightmare, panting, sitting straight up. She had a cold sweat.

Left with nothing better to do, since she sure as hell wasn't going to sleep any time soon, she slipped some boxers on over her underwear and went to see what Michael was up to.

What she saw truly unnerved her.

He was sitting.

On her couch.

Eating HER Wheaties.

With a SPOON.

And MILK.

Watching OPRAH.

"...What the HELL is going on in here?" She asked, making him jump so hard that the Wheaties went everywhere.

Luckily, no milk spilled out of the bowl.

He glared at her. "I'm eating. And relaxing. What does it LOOK like I'm doing?"

"Why the hell are you watching OPRAH? And who eats MILK with their cereal, much less a SPOON?"

"Everyone eats milk with their cereal, hence using a spoon. That's sort of the point, Alyce," he replied as if SHE were the one new to Earthly things.

She huffed. "_I_ don't use milk and a spoon."

"Then perhaps YOU are the odd one out here," he commented.

"AM NOT!"

The damn neighbor pounded on the wall again, and she glared at the wall-in-question as if he could see her.

"GIMME A MINUTE, I HAVE A HELLA ANNOYING ROOMIE!" She shouted at the wall.

He just pounded on the wall again. "Ohhhh, it's _on_," she growled.

_**

* * *

**_

_**BAM BAM BAM.**_

_**BAM BAM BAM!**_

_**BAM BAM BAM BAM!**_

_**BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM!**_

_**BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM! **_Alyce giggled mischieviously. "I have the upper hand!"

_**BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAAAAAM!**_

_**BAM. **_"Michael!" She hissed. "You just ruined it!" _**BAM BAM BAM!**_

"Nope, I won, Parish. So, be a dear, would you, and SHUT THE HELL UP!" Mr. Collins yelled through the wall.

"Yeah, well, go screw your cat! Or your sister!" She shouted back before huffing and ruffling her hair.

"You made us _lose_, Michael!" She exclaimed, pointing at him accusingly.

"ME?"

"YES, you!"

"Perhaps you shouldn't play such childish games, then."

"Perhaps YOU should just shut up! And we are NOT watching Oprah!" She declared as she flipped onto the couch, grabbing the remote.

"What's wrong with Oprah? She seems to be a very sophisticated and wise woman.."

"That's what she WANTS you to think. It's all part of the plan," she murmured, absorbed in trying to find something remotely good on tv.

"...Plan? What plan?" He asked hesitantly, almost afraid of what she'd tell him.

Alyce instead muted Oprah and did a total about-face so she was looking at him. She looked way too excited; it was scary.

"Okay, here's my theory. You know who Barney is, right?"

* * *

"Er...I believe so. Is he that purple dinosaur on the television show that human children seem to worship?"

"YES, that's the one!" She said, pointing at him enthusiastically.

"Okay, I got it so far."

"Alright. Well, Barney holds no sway over the adults, does he?"

"..No, he doesn't, you're right.."

"I myself think he's a pedophile."

"Yes! I've always wondered that myself!"

"Cool! We actually have something in common! Well, ANYWAY, did you ever notice that Oprah once had the same body structure as Barney? I mean, her weight just shifts all over the place, but still!"

She paused dramatically, and Michael sighed impatiently. "Alright, go on..!"

"WELL...I, ALYCE PARISH, have deduced that Barney...is a SHAPESHIFTER!"

* * *

A little bit of laughter escaped from him, but then his face fell.

"...Oh good God. You're serious."

She grinned. "Yep! C'mon, think about it. He's a _purple dinosaur _that _talks_. Plus, he's originally a stuffed animal at the beginning of each episode that magically turns into a LIVE dinosaur, right? So why COULDN'T he shapeshift into Oprah in the afternoon so he could hold sway on the ADULTS, too? And one day, he shall rule the world, and I will point at you and everyone else and say 'I told you so! But you bastards didn't listen!' And then I will go hide in my underground bomb shelter and be safe and warm with my Wheaties and Frosted Flakes," she concluded smugly.

Michael stared at her for a really long time.

"...Alyce?"

"Yes, Michael?"

"...I am very concerned about you. Perhaps you hit your head a lot harder than I thought when you fainted..."

She waved him off. "Nah, I've had that theory for YEARS. _Libby _believed me.."

"Well, either way, you need your rest. Goodnight now."

Alyce huffed and simply turned back to the tv. "Nope. I'm chilling right here, whether you like it or not."

It was quiet for a few minutes.

"...Alyce?"

"What NOW?"

He grinned. "I'm glad to have your company."

She grinned back. "Awww, that's so sweet! You're still cleaning up the Wheaties you spilled."

"But-"

"And throw them in the TRASH, not back in the BOX."

_**BAM BAM BA-**_

"SHUT THE HELL UP, MR. COLLINS!"


End file.
